


rose-tinted cheeks

by manntequilla



Series: young lovesick boys [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Polyamory, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but theyre all good boyfriends, its raining and i wanted to write something wholesome, kenny is very stupid, kyle and stan are good parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manntequilla/pseuds/manntequilla
Summary: kyle and stan are good boyfriends.





	rose-tinted cheeks

There was just something about the rain that made him feel at peace with himself. Perched on top of one of the highest buildings in South Park made him feel as though he meant something to the small town, was needed and clung to by their twisted souls that hungered for more of the purity left in what little soul he had left, all but one fragment torn from his grasp and ripped apart savagely just for the fun of it.

Tonight, he was Mysterion. The dark figure against the torrents of rain that fell in sheets and stung your skin until you huddled underneath what little shelter the quiet mountain town had to offer.

Not even the moon had dared to show itself behind the clouds, the rumbles of thunder chasing it out of the sky as the lightning lit up the night sky. Kenny inhaled deeply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth and watching the mist swirl from his mouth before disappearing. Somehow, it had managed to rain even though the temperature was only a few degrees above freezing temperatures.

He had been freezing earlier. Not as in he felt cold and needed to warm up under a blanket fabric, but he had lashed out badly and hurt several people, whether it was physical or psychological. It was mainly robbers or local drug dealers that the police wouldn’t even recognize.

Kenny huffed, pressing his back against the cold, drenched brick wall. His body was aching, There wasn’t really much going on downtown, surprisingly. He really shouldn’t have gone out, but he needed to do something about the crimes that no one is stopping. It’s his job.

“So, wanna tell me why you decided to sneak out when Kyle told you _not_ to?” Kenny had to do a double-take when he heard a local voice. It was Stan. More specifically, Toolshed. He was sitting up on a stiff tree branch, looking down at the drenched boy. 

“Trying to save the town, until you came in.” Mysterion rasped. Toolshed rolled his eyes. 

“Jesus, I’m taking you back home. You sound awful.” Toolshed hopped off the branch and walked over to the other boy.

"Crime doesn't stop f-for-" He broke off, choking on a cough that rattled up in his chest, followed by a violent sneeze that sprayed the air, making him feel even more exhausted as his body was jerked violently forward. He slowly lowered himself to the ground with a hiss of pain as his ribs were jostled, most likely bruised.

"-Rain," He finished with another rattling cough into his fist.

“Actually yes it does when you’re looking like decapitated roadkill. Now, let’s go.” Toolshed took a hold of Mysterion’s hand, pulling him up. “Let’s hope Kyle doesn’t kill you.” Being in the rain had already worn Kenny down, allowing the flu to come into play once again. Uttering a soft moan, he winced as Toolshed wrapped his arm around his shoulder and proceeded to walk to the warmth of their apartment.

 

Stan opened the main window that led to their bedroom, allowing Kenny to go in first. He closed the window and locked it.“I’ll be right back,” Kenny mutters, voice hoarse and croaky, as he darts to the open bathroom and closes himself in.

The ground underneath his feet is tilting as if balancing on the point of a cone, and Kenny falls back against the closed door as he gives in to the coughing fit. Each cough is deeper than the first, and his lungs rattle in his chest as he doubles over while blindly reaching one hand out to brace against the wall. Tears sprinkle at his eyes, and his entire body tightens and tenses with each cough. He’s considering death as an actual option when the fit finally tampers off, leaving him gasping for breath with buckling knees.

‘This isn’t right’, he thinks as he slowly turns and opens the door. He spares a quick glance around, but luckily, he’s still alone. He shuffles toward the sinks, beginning to slip off his costume and stares with a frown at his foggy reflection. He wiped off the steam and examined his figure. His face is pale as well as having dark purple circle under his hazy olive green eyes ; he mirrors the coloring of someone lying on their deathbed. His only saving grace is the deep red that colors his cheeks and extends towards the tip of his nose. He weakly presses the back of one trembling hand to his cheek and breathes out a hushed sigh. He’s warm, far too warm to be considered a normal temperature. Yet, his bones feel as if they are made of ice and threatening to crack and shatter.

Admitting he’s sick isn’t something he really wants to do, but he can’t deny the fever and chesty coughing fits as he bends over the sink to splash some cool water over his face.The water burns ice cold against his hands but feels heavenly against his heated face, and when he bends back up while blinking water from his eyes to grab his cloak, he lets out a sharp string of curses when he spots Kyle’s reflection behind him.

He spins around quickly and blindly grips at the sink beside him to keep himself upright just as Kyle arches one brow at him.

“How long have you been in here?” Kenny counters as he wraps his brain to remember someone coming in, but he can’t recall hearing the door open at all.

“Long enough to hear you hacking up a lung,” Kyle says before stepping forward with a raised hand.

Kenny tries to back away from hand reaching out to him, but he only presses hard against the edge of a sink just as Kyle carefully smooths a palm to his forehead with a nod.

“That’s some fever you got there,” Kyle tells Kenny as he drops his hand, and Kenny drops his gaze to the floor. He can’t be certain, but there’s a twinge of something coloring Kyle’s tone, and Kenny is thinking it’s either disappointment or concern. He doesn’t want to have Kyle and Stan, out of all people, worried about him, but he’s cornered. He lets out a loud, wet sneeze and wraps his arms around his shivering frame.

“This is why you’re here,” Kenny mutters out quietly, and Kyle hums in agreement.

“Stan told me that you were coming down with something earlier this week and told me you were being a stubborn brat and decided to, you know, leave and tried to be a superhero.”

Kenny snaps his head up with a sharp frown. “Stan told you that I’m sick? When?”

Kyle waves a dismissive hand before wrapping firm fingers around Kenny’s damp arm to pull the older boy out of the bathroom and sat him down on the bed. “You’re staying home. I honestly would yell at you but, in your state of physical health, you probably wouldn’t remember.” 

“But K-Kyle-” Kenny was interrupted with a fit of harsh coughs. His shivering body was hunched over, lanky arms wrapped around his frame. Kyle took Kenny’s parka that was hanged on top of the computer chair and draped the warm clothing over the poor boy’s shoulders. Kenny merely nodded as a thank you, pulling the jacket closer to his frame. 

“No buts. The town is fine for a couple of days without you running around trying to save the day. You shouldn’t be out there, overworking yourself. Especially in a condition like this!” Kyle’s fingers picked through the fabrics that were in the bedroom drawers, pulling out a pair of sweatpants. He tossed them over to Kenny, who dropped onto the edge of the bed with a weak cough. Stan, out of his superhero attire and into something more comfortable, pittered in the room with a few, maybe two, blankets in his arms. 

Finally slipping on the pants and jacket Kyle provided, Kenny sat up and rubbed his droopy eyes. “Did you find any Ibuprofen or cough drops?” Kyle asked Stan, who picked up the wet clothes Kenny was wearing earlier and placed them in the hamper that held dirty clothes. “Yeah, it’s on the kitchen counter.” Stan responded and sat down on the bed next to Kenny, who let’s out an agonizing groan and slowly lays his heavy head on Stan’s shoulder. Kyle picked up the hamper and left the room, leaving the two with the sounds of pouring rain repeatedly hitting the shut window.

“How’re you feeling, snot boy?” Stan asked, running and pushing his fingers through Kenny’s wet locks of dirty blonde. Kenny opens his mouth for a quick reply, but instead of words, he’s suddenly turning his head to sneeze sharply into the crook of his sleeve, once, twice, three times, before moving his face away with a congested sniffle. Stan sucks in a hiss and nodded, looking around and reached over for the box of kleenex that was luckily not empty. The noirette removed the saran-wrap seal and placed the box in Kenny’s lap. “So, I’ll take that as ‘Feeling like shit’.” Stan felt a small object hit the back of his head, sounding like a pill bottle. He looked over his shoulder, behind him was the bottle of Ibuprofen and across was Kyle giving him a thumbs up before disappearing to the kitchen again, possibly making some family concoction that his mom makes whenever Kyle gets sick. “I thought you’d be coming down with a cough or something small,” Stan pressed the back of his hands against Kenny’s neck, flushed cheeks and one hand on his warm, no not warm, burning forehead. “But you’re burning up and you went out in the freezing pouring rain with light clothing. What the fuck, Ken?” 

“Thank you Kyle number two on telling me how much of a dumbass I am. Yes I’m aware.” Kenny replied and scowled at him and ripped a tissue away from the box, pressing it against his redden nose and blew into the tissue till it became soggy. Stan just gave him a sheepish grin.

Kyle came back with a green mug filled with hot tea, sitting down next to the younger boy. “Here, it’ll help your throat,” He muttered, handing the cup to Kenny. “I would annoy you on eating but you’re most likely gonna vomit it back up, so we’ll just save the soup for tomorrow morning. Right now, you need to rest.” Kenny blinked his half-lidded eyes slowly and took a few sips from the warm cup, propping it down on the side table. Kyle turned his head to Stan and asked.

“Which one of us is gonna sleep with sneezy tonight?” 

Stan thought for a moment, then proceeded to have his left hand out and his right in a fist. Kyle shrugged and did the same. Kenny rolled his eyes. 

“You are _not_ playing Rock, Paper, Scissors. Just pick.” Kenny coughed in his sleeves, eyeing his boyfriends’ in annoyance. Stan sighed and scoots up to the pillow, grabbing one of the blankets and draped it over Kenny’s back and then got under the duvet. 

“Happy?” Stan raised an eyebrow with a smile. 

“Yes, very.” Kenny slipped under the duvet as well. Kyle picked up the painkillers off of the bed, unscrewing the cap and shook out two pills. Placing it on the side table, Kyle unfolded the other blanket Stan brought in and veiled it over the lower half of Kenny’s frame, who coughed out a thank you. Kyle pressed a small kiss on Kenny’s forehead and heaved up from the edge of the bed. “Don’t get Stan sick now, I would like to have another healthy person in this apartment. I’ll be in the guest room if you need anything.” And with that, Kyle left the room once again. 

“No promises.” Kenny yelled, taking one more sip from the mug and laid his head on Stan’s collarbone, his eyes closed within a few seconds as soon as Stan ran his fingers slowly through Kenny’s hair once again.

**Author's Note:**

> i suck at summaries.


End file.
